Sliding into Home

One month before the accident, during the COVID-19 pandemic, my husband, Steve, and Mason, my older son, secured tickets to the World Series at Globe Life Field in Arlington, Texas, for themselves and my younger son, Josh. This is where my mind places the beginning of this tale and, ultimately, the blame for the accident, as you’ll see.

We were all emerging from the restraints of the pandemic. Life was reopening, and fans could finally attend their favorite sporting events after months of deprivation. That’s what it was in our home. No coaching, no playing, no watching baseball. Talk about sucking the life out of my men!!! Steve and his coaching team tried to find loopholes in the school district’s social distancing policy to hold practices, to no avail. Mason’s MLB.tv subscription all but dried up. Josh’s high school team had one practice, I believe, where he introduced his personalized baseball glove embroidered with “Sexy Man Beast.”(My guy had persuasive and charming powers even over his parents at times!) To be honest, the mood in our home was deflated for months, as it was in many, many homes. Had life been normal during the hardest-hit months, a trip to the World Series wouldn’t have felt so urgent or necessary. I blame COVID-19 for the accident!

Not only would they be going to the World Series, but they would also be going to Globe Life Field, whose inaugural season had been shut down by the pandemic as well. They would never say this, but my guys were going to partake in a piece of baseball history IN PERSON! Can you sense their excitement? Destination: Game 3 on October 23 and Game 4 on October 24. Dodgers vs. Rays, not teams my guys supported (although Steve did buy a Rays cap—once an American League fan, always an American League fan). Let’s be real—the teams just didn’t matter.

Little did we know, their destination would change, derailed by their fatal accident. Instead of the World Series, they had their final SLIDE INTO HOME, as described by my pastor friend who spoke at their candlelight vigil.

In a devastatingly beautiful gesture, friends of ours who are connected with professional sports orchestrated a miracle. A picture was created of Steve, Mason, and Josh from two existing photos taken after two separate games where Steve coached the boys. Steve is positioned between both boys, and all three wear the look of a full day of down-and-dirty baseball. The picture was sent to Globe Life Field and displayed on the Jumbotron during batting practice for Game 4, and I’ve heard it popped up during the game as well. They did make it to the World Series after all, albeit in spirit.

It’s hard to believe this actually happened. It’s hard to believe even now, six years later, that they are still gone. I imagine Steve “having a catch with his dad” (think classic scene in Field of Dreams), Mason’s knees covered in gold dirt as he protects home plate pitch after pitch on a heavenly ball field, and Josh, with a more appropriately named glove 😊, inspiring his teammates with a pre-game message that brings laughter and light to their play. To say “I can’t wait to get there” is a supreme understatement.

In the meantime, I’ve learned I have a choice: live like I’m dead, or live seeking the abundant life Jesus promises in John 10:10: “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” I’m still exploring scripture and life to understand whether that full life is eternal life, life to be lived on this side of heaven, or a divine perspective of contentment and gratitude here and now regardless of circumstances. My gut tells me it’s the latter, but I’m taking liberty in that statement. Never rely on your gut with scripture; study to interpret it correctly! I will tell you this: praying for the lens of contentment and gratitude feels true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy (Philippians 4:8). I’d rather be living in light than slowly dying in darkness.

The light that radiated from Steve, Mason, and Josh was something else…especially my Josh! I might as well live in that light too, since we all sourced it from the same Savior. For me, it’s an intentional decision, and it’s extremely hard in a state of crisis or tragedy. If I don’t choose to live for the Lord, isolation, pain, and sadness often take root…again. We can let grief and loss overwhelm us and drain the life out of us, or we can choose to let the light of the Lord penetrate us through our surrender, reading God’s Word, prayer, reflection, and listening. Here’s my disclaimer: it’s not a one-and-done choice. Choosing to allow God into your pain may have to happen daily, hourly, or moment by moment, and that’s okay. He’s not going anywhere. God is wherever you are. Sometimes we just who lose sight of Him right next to us

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